“I will.”

  “And…” Ziad paused. She tensed. Was this where the hook came in? “And I would like to spend some time with you. During the trial.”

  “Of course,” she said, and fascinated, she watched as his jaw loosened and a slight hint of relief appeared on Ziad's handsome face.

  He's as worried about this as I am, she found herself thinking. He needs this to go well as much as I do.

  Another thought occurred to her.

  I'm not alone.

  It brought a rush of warmth through her, and she wondered what else she would discover about Ziad in the time to come.

  2

  The third day of Laura's trial period ended in the nursery, and Ziad watched unobtrusively from the corner as Laura fed Hasan his dinner while Jamila sat at her elbow, ostensibly coloring but far more interested in learning about this new and fascinating adult who had come into her life.

  “You have so many brothers and sisters,” Jamila sing-songed. “There's Jake and Emily and Marcus and Andrea, but you are the oldest. There's no one your age.”

  “That's right,” Laura said with a laugh, wiping a bit of carrot from Hasan's round cheek. “I was the bossy one.”

  “Does that mean you didn't have any fun? You had to take care of everyone.”

  Ziad tensed at Jamila's innocent words, trying to decide if he should reprimand her for getting personal, but Laura only made a considering noise.

  “Well, I'm the oldest, so for a while, I had my parents all to myself. And my grandpa helps out when he can, looking after the younger kids. I think fun is something you can make for yourself. For example, when Andrea and Emily were much younger, they wanted to take gymnastics lessons through the school. It was a good deal, but we really didn't have the money for it, so guess what I did?”

  “What?” asked Jamila, wide-eyed.

  “I saw that auditions for the play were going on, and they rehearsed in the gym where the lessons were held. I got a tiny part in the play, I watched the lessons, and then I went home and taught Emily and Andrea everything I could remember.”

  “Did it work?”

  “It did! That summer, they were vaulting over the couch and tumbling all over the place, and I got to be one of Juliet's ladies-in-waiting. It was fun—I got to wear a pretty dress and everything.”

  The story made Ziad's heart ache. It was too easy to imagine Laura wanting to provide for her sisters, to give them something fun that was not a strict necessity. Jamila, of course, at the age of seven, only saw the fun, and her dark eyes shone.

  “Laura, can I take gymnastics? I want to learn to vault over the couch.”

  “You should ask your father for that, I think.”

  Eagerly, Jamila turned to him, and Ziad's heart ached again, this time with love. When she thought of her father, she thought of Ziad. They talked about her birth parents, lost earlier that year in an accident, but she knew he was her father now.

  “May I take gymnastics lessons?” she asked eagerly, and Ziad hesitated.

  It sounded dangerous to him, all that tumbling and knocking around. Could she hurt herself on a beam or trying to tumble on the floor? He didn't want to tell her no, but—

  “Andrea liked gymnastics, but she went on to get ballet lessons instead, earning them by cleaning the dance studio. She did a few recitals, and she was so pretty in her tutu.”

  “A tutu!” Jamila gasped, and she turned to Ziad again.

  “May I take ballet lessons instead?” she asked, and he laughed out loud.

  “You may,” he said. “We can get them set up for you next week.”

  Over Jamila’s head, Laura tipped him a wink, and he smiled even wider. He knew when he had been saved. Jamila squeaked with delight, running over to give him a hug, and he closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the warmth and trust in her embrace. It was over too soon, and then she ran to Laura, wrapping her arms around her affectionately.

  “Okay, okay,” Laura said, standing up with Hasan slung over her shoulder. “Time to get ready for bed. Jamila, would you like to pick a storybook?”

  Jamila would, and as she went to look over the nursery's shelves full of books, Ziad cleared his throat.

  “After you have put them to bed, will you come meet me in the gardens?”

  Laura nodded, squaring her shoulders as if she were facing a firing squad, but she gave him a warm smile.

  “I will,” she said, and then Jamila was calling for her to come and look to see which book she wanted to read. As she went to help her young charge, the door to the nursery opened and Fahim walked in.

  Fahim was the middle brother, not quite as tall as Ziad and quieter than Imran, but he possessed a calm presence that Ziad sometimes found himself envying. He was an utterly ruthless lawyer, a brilliant mind, but right now, he only looked around the nursery curiously, as if wondering at finding his elder brother there.

  “Good evening,” he said. “I thought I would come see if you wanted a late dinner with me. I could get us a table at that new Ethiopian place in the city that everyone is wild about.”

  “Ah, no,” Ziad said, shaking his head. “I have business tonight.”

  He nodded towards Laura, where she was leaning in to find just the perfect book for Jamila. He had been struck by her looks when he first met her, had found himself attracted to her lean and slender form. Her brown eyes were warm, and her hair as black as his own. She was a startlingly attractive young woman, but he had assumed that the attraction would fade. Now, however, he realized that it hadn't at all, and he had to jerk his thoughts back to his brother.

  “Ah, that business,” Fahim said, and when he spoke again, his voice was uncharacteristically gentle. “Brother, are you sure? You speak of this as a business arrangement, but it will be, for all intents and purposes, a marriage. Your marriage.”

  For some reason, Ziad turned back to Laura, who had taken Jamila's hand in hers while the other came up to hold Hasan securely to her. She was going to give her charges their baths, and then she would read to Jamila until the little princess fell asleep. He caught a glimpse of Jamila's smile, Hasan's sleeping, soft baby face, and Laura's own dark eyes before they were gone, and he nodded.

  “Yes, I am sure.”

  Fahim sighed.

  “Let no one tell my brother the king his own mind,” he said. “Laura seems a wonderful choice, but you are my brother. Excuse my worrying. The contracts are drawn up. They address both the employment situation and the marriage situation, and all that is left is for you two to sign.”

  Ziad started to dismiss his brother, but then he paused.

  “Make sure she is protected.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Make sure that even if worse comes to worse, if we have to divorce or if for some reason she is unable to perform her duties, that she will have a large sum to live on, and that her family is taken care of.”

  Fahim raised his eyebrow, but he nodded, and after he left, Ziad sat in the empty nursery and thought about his words. He had spoken them on impulse, in protection of a young woman who cared so deeply for her sisters she would audition for a play she wasn't interested in and bring gymnastics lessons home to them, but he found that the idea of providing for Laura filled him with a strange kind of warmth.

  Laura must be cared for, he thought, and then he put the thought away. He didn't have time to be sentimental about this.

  The garden was among the loveliest places in a gorgeous palace, and despite everything, Laura found herself eager to stand among the graceful trees and the sumptuous flowers again.

  Even if I am going to get shown the door.

  She couldn't lie to herself. It would be devastating to be this close to changing things forever for her family and to stumble on the last step. The thought made her want to cry, but it was not the only thought that made her feel that way.

  In just three days, she had fallen in love with Jamila and Hasan. Hasan was a sweet baby, always reaching for her and then the next minute racing away on all fours and giggling. Jamila was as sweet as sugar and as imperious as the queen she would one day be, and at times, she was so vulnerable and so hesitant that Laura longed to sweep her up and cuddle her. She realized as she walked that leaving the kids would hurt her right down to her core.

  And then there’s Ziad.

  There was no way to read him. For the last three days, she had felt his eyes on her as she cared for his children, and she had no idea whether he approved or not.

  If he really didn't like what I was doing, he would just stop me, right? Right?

  She just didn't know.

  Laura was startled when she found him waiting for her at the gates to the garden. She had expected to be the one waiting, but he smiled when she approached, as if he were just a normal man and not the King of Yeni.

  “Will you come with me?” he asked, and mutely, she nodded, at a loss for words.

  Entering the garden felt like entering a fairy tale, with soft lights hung from the gorgeous plants, the path in front of them strewn with sweet-smelling herbs. They came to a white tent with two open sides, and on the table under the shelter were a dozen or more tiny dishes. They were covered with clay domes, but the smell rising from them was enough to make her mouth water.

  “I do not yet know what you like to eat, so I thought a few small dishes might suit. Come. Have a seat.”

  He guided her to her chair with a gentle hand on her elbow, and there was that warmth again. Laura swallowed hard, and there was a slight pause in Ziad's movements that told her he'd felt it too.

  She was both unsurprised and a little disappointed when he only went to take his seat opposite hers.

  Don't be silly, what do you expect? Nothing's changed. He's still your employer, and you had better hope he likes your work.

  “Eat,” Ziad said, gesturing to the plates. “We have a great deal to talk about, but first you should have some food. The children kept you hopping all day.”

  If someone had told her that she would have to sit down and eat a meal with her employer before she learned her fate, she would have thought the entire encounter would be tense to the point of breaking. Instead, to her surprise, Ziad was calmer and more relaxed than she had ever seen him, and that in turn helped her to relax as well.

  “Here, try this one,” he said, sliding one of the small clay dishes towards her. “It's a type of stewed carrot and green bean in spices, a very old recipe.”

  “Oh, do you know much about cooking?' she asked, and then she blushed. She was behaving as if she were on a date and not having dinner with her boss, who also happened to be a king, but Ziad only smiled.

  “Not me, but my father,” he said. “He thought of himself as something of a chef, but ah—well. He would try these complicated recipes, and once in a while they turned out. Other times, well…”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Sometimes, we would get meat gelatin for dinner. It wasn't very good,” he said with a laugh. She very much liked his laugh.

  “My father's sort of the same,” she offered shyly. “He's a menace in the kitchen, but my grandfather is really good, and he taught my mother all she knows.”

  She wondered if Ziad would take offense at having his father and the former king compared to her own father, who had never left New Jersey, where he was born, but Ziad only laughed at the stories she told, and told her a few in return. Throughout all of it, she could sense a deep and abiding warmth from Ziad, making her wonder how he kept this part of him underneath that chilly veneer of severity.

  They talked until a waiter dressed in white brought them another plate, but instead of uncovering it, Ziad looked out over the garden.

  “Would you like to come walking?” he asked. “There is a full moon, and there is a place not far from here were we can see it.”

  Laura nodded, rising to follow him down the dimly lit path. In for a penny, in for a pound, she supposed, but she wasn't thinking of anything half so sensible when she automatically took Ziad's hand.

  The moment she did so, mortification flooded her body. What was she thinking? She was out with her boss, no, not even her boss, someone who was just thinking of hiring her to watch his kids. This wasn't a date, and the fact that she had forgotten, even for a minute, made her flush with shame.

  Laura started to babble an apology, but instead of letting her go, Ziad held her hand a little more tightly. They walked a little farther, to a clear spot in the garden where the moon sailed over them like a beautiful silver coin, and then, still holding her hand, Ziad turned to her.

  “Marriage is a serious thing for me,” he said abruptly. “I do not enter into it lightly, even if the impetus is my duty to, and my care for my children, and my position, rather than romance. We are not lovers, but I have every intent to honor you, to respect you, and to care for you as my friend and my confidante.”

  For just a moment, Laura wondered if Ziad would get down on one knee, but he only reached into his pocket, pulling out a velvet box. As Laura held her breath, he opened it to reveal a ring set with a large sapphire, surrounded by diamonds. She stared at the gorgeous piece of jewelry, and Ziad squeezed her hand softly.

  “Marry me,” he said, his voice low. “Be my wife and a mother to my children.”

  Laura knew that Ziad meant what he said about their marriage being a partnership rather than a romantic endeavor. She knew what it would mean for his family and for hers. Still, she was thinking about none of that when he took her hand and looked deep into her eyes.

  In that moment, all that mattered was how he made her heart beat hard and how close to him she felt.

  “Yes,” she breathed, and when he slipped the ring onto her finger, he leaned in close to her.

  For just a single instant, she felt his breath on her lips, sending a delicious thrill through her body that took her breath away.

  He's going to kiss me, she thought wildly. He has to kiss me…

  She was wrong. At the last moment, he drew back, and something inside her cried out in longing.

  3

  “Oh Sarah, you look so beautiful,” Laura breathed, and her friend laughed.

  “That's good, because I feel like a cat at a rocking chair convention.”

  “Hush. Is that any way for a bride to talk?” scolded Laura. “Now look up so I can get this tiara pinned.”

  Obediently, Sarah looked up, and Laura checked the tutorial again to make sure that she was securing the tiara, studded with emeralds, to her friend's hair correctly.

  Laura had thought that a royal wedding would be far fancier, with professionals running around to take care of every single detail, but Sarah had shaken her head.

  “No, I don't think I can stand an all-out royal wedding,” she said, patting her round belly meaningfully. “If I still have to be on bed rest most of the time, the doctors won't be thrilled with me dancing all night. And…”

  “And?”

  “And I just don't want to wait any longer,” she said with a radiant smile. “Maryam has already started talking about a big vow renewal a year or so down the line, but honestly, I could be marrying Imran on the moon or at a diner, and it wouldn't matter as long as we were husband and wife.”

  Big ceremony or not, Sarah glowed as Laura put the finishing touches on her makeup and stepped back to admire her friend.

  “How are you doing?” Laura asked, and in the mirror, Sarah met her eyes, her smile enormous.

  “I'm feeling sure,” she said, “more sure than I have been about anything in my life. Let's go.”

  Sarah's confidence woke something dark and longing in Laura. She was thrilled for her friend, wished her every happiness, but she wanted some of that surety for herself. She had been on cloud nine since Ziad's proposal, but now she wondered.

  Then there was no time left to wonder. The music started, they heard the rustling cheer of the guests, and her best friend, the one who had gotten her right where she was right now, was getting married.

  The ceremony was small and gorgeous, taking place in the same garden where Ziad had proposed, and Laura's heart thumped at how beautiful Sarah and Imran looked together. When they kissed, the crowd, kept to family and close friends, broke into wild cheers. Next to her, Ziad smiled and nodded as if he were well satisfied with the way things had turned out for Sarah and Imran, but there was nothing demonstrative about him, nothing more than that cool and controlled pleasure.

  It got worse during the dancing. When the time came for the first dance, Sarah couldn't do anything too energetic due to her health restrictions. Instead of ending the dancing, however, Imran simply swept her up in his arms. Her arms went around his neck, and they swayed on the dance floor. They had eyes only for each other, their happiness so gleaming that it made Laura's heart tighten.

  She sneaked a glance at Ziad, who looked on with approval and no inclination at all to dance, even as other couples moved onto the floor.

  Ask me to dance, she thought, and then she flinched at how needy that sounded. They had a business arrangement, not a romance. You did not take your business partner to the dance floor.

  She told herself this, but the doubt that had started up when she saw Sarah and Imran repeating their vows came back in full force.

  Abruptly, she turned from the celebration to make her way out.

  She had found the observatory on her last day off. It was a tall and narrow tower with a great glass dome serving as a ceiling. Even as close as they were to the capital city, the tower, equipped with a gorgeous birdcage of an elevator, would deliver an amazing view of the night sky.

  Laura didn't think that the Khalids were very interested in stargazing. The room below the dome had a large bed-like couch at the center of it, following an old Yeni design, and she didn't know how long it had been since anyone besides her had lain down on it and stared up at the cold and distant stars.

  She heard his step a moment before he spoke. She stayed where she was, looking up into the sky.